


Lost and Found

by FireFaceOutlook



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, Shipping If You Squint, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFaceOutlook/pseuds/FireFaceOutlook
Summary: “Uh... Jack's not here,” Anti said.“I- I know.”Oh shit,Anti thought.That means he's here forme.





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: I wrote a thing. Should I continue this thing?**

Anthony McLoughlin – “Anti” to those who knew both him and his near-identical twin Seán, or “Jack” – was in the midst of the perfect midnight movie marathon, consisting of the scariest films he could find on Netflix, when frantic knocking interrupted him. He considered ignoring it, since Jack was staying over at Mark's for a video game binge, but if it was someone _looking_ for Jack, it was probably best to just let them know he was out. Still, it was with great reluctance that Anti paused the particularly gory thriller to get up and slink over to the door. As he grabbed the doorknob, he glanced through the peephole. Standing on the other side was someone Anti actually knew from class.

Chase Brody was part of a friend group labeled as the “Septiceyes” by most people in their college. Because Jack was technically the creator of the group, Anti was sort of automatically drafted into it, even if he only ever really interacted with Jameson Jackson, the campus' resident mute. Chase was more Jack's friend than Anti's, but sometimes, during class, Chase would tell Anti about his weekends with his kids – he had two with his high school sweetheart... Stephanie? –, or Anti would ask Chase for help on his homework. That was about the extent of their relationship.

Anti realized he was gazing into space while trying to remember what little he knew about the man outside the door when Chase knocked again. Anti opened the door, at a loss as to what to do, especially when he could clearly smell alcohol wafting off the man like too-strong cologne. He looked even more pathetic face-to-face than he did through the peephole.

“Uh... Jack's not here,” Anti said.

“I- I know.”

 _Oh shit,_ Anti thought. _That means he's here for **me**._ Jack was _much_ more equipped to handle this drunk, kicked puppy-looking guy, but seeing as he was elsewhere, Anti would have to be emotionally competent for the time being.

“Dude, what's wrong?” Anti wanted to slap himself. Did he really just say that? To the guy he _knew_ was always giving long-winded explanations?

Instead of the teary word-vomit he was expecting, Chase sort of slumped as he mumbled – _mumbled!_ Chase _never_ mumbled; he was loud and proud! –, “I'm just... it's a bad anniversary and I'm sad and I lost my keys and I dunno what to do.”

Anti's brows furrowed as he tried to recall the date, because Jack had hammered into his head important days to not act like an asshole – read: be himself – to certain people in the friend group, like Jackie's birthday, or the day Marvin's cat died, or – oh. _Oh._ Chase's divorce. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that that had only happened about a year ago, and Chase only ever talked about his kids, but seeing them only on the weekends if his ex allowed it couldn't be easy. And that – that should make Anti pity him, like the other Septiceyes did. But in reality, it just made Anti realize how strong Chase was, for all that he acted like a doofus.

“If you're busy, I can just go...”

“No, wait!” Anti swung the door opened wider. “Come on. We can eat Jack's ice cream stash and watch some movies...?”

Despite Anti's awkward fumbles in communicating the entire time, Chase actually smiled.

“Sure, that'd – that'd be nice.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** _prompt: In the middle of my midnight movie marathon, I was interrupted by frantic knocking at my apartment door. I slunk over to the peephole, only to see a classmate of mine looking much like a kicked puppy. I opened the door, not entirely sure what to do. The scent of alcohol wafted off him like a strong cologne._  
>  _“Dude, what's wrong?”_  
>  _“I'm just…it's a bad anniversary and I'm sad and I lost my keys and I dunno what to do.”_  
>  **[@promptsforthestrugglingauthor]**


End file.
